Whooper
by Michelle P
Summary: An unscheduled stop leads to a night of terror for Dean and Sam in a forest supposedly haunted by the vengeful spirit of a murdered man.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story is based on an actual legend and location. The tale takes place at a river where I go fishing with my family. Now, I know that the boys don't go _hunting_ in Canada, but I thought it'd be fun to take them someplace else. **

**This is a tale of murder and a grave next to a spring that is a branch off from the river. The story goes back a long time. It's been in place since before I was born. It has been said that the screams of the dying man are still heard echoing throughout the woods at night. **

**I personally have never heard the screaming, but then again, I've never stayed overnight at the river either, but my dad claims to have heard it once. **

**Anyway, like I said, this is a New Brunswick Ghost story and will take place in Canada. If you're interested, keep reading, if not turn back now. **

**This is my first attempt at a Supernatural fanfic, so my characters may be a little off. If so, and there is something that I can do to improve them, please tell me and I'll do my best to improve upon it. If you have constructive criticism, I welcome it. Anything to help me improve is good and well with me.**

_Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with the show Supernatural, but I'm a huge fan. I also don't own the legend that I have used, that's been passed down for generations. I own the plot and any directions that I might take it, but that's about it. This is purely for enjoyment and I am not getting any payment but the reviews that people give me, so drop a note!_

_Summary: An unscheduled stop brings legend into a new light. A haunting scream echoes through the forest at night, and that scream comes from a murder long past committed at an old logging site. An unmarked grave and a stand with a written song make it clear that this legend is highly regarded, but nobody knows if it's true or not. Nobody until Sam and Dean meet it face to face._

**Chapter 1**

A long and winding road snaked through a thick forest with dense woodlands on either side. Each tree looked twisted and gnarled in the navy blue of early night and reached toward the sky with deformed hands as though to touch the moon that hung above and illuminated the entire region in a pale silver glow. Pinpoints of stars dotted the sky and dark clouds drifted gracefully above the land, darting playfully in front of the moon.

The black Impala purred down the road and the two boys inside took in the sights with weary eyes. Music wafted through the open windows and Dean breathed in the crisp night air with a slight smile. In the passenger seat, Sam sat quietly, his elbow resting at the base of the window and supporting his head as his eyes slowly began to close.

"Dean, where are we?" Sam asked, shaking himself from the darkness that was edging his vision. He cast his eyes out the window to pass tiredly over the endless trees that bordered either side of the road. The fresh night air danced through the cab and tousled Sam's dark hair with soft, invisible fingers.

"We're in Canada, Sammy." Dean smiled smugly.

"It's Sam. I _know_ we're in Canada, but _where_ in Canada are we?"

"New Brunswick."

"I need a little more than that. A location would be nice. That is if you _know_ one."

"Nope, sorry. I haven't the slightest clue."

"Then we're lost." Sam replied, more as a statement than a question.

Dean chuckled softly and shook his head.

"We're not lost. We just don't know where we are."

"That's the oldest joke in the book, Dean." Sam replied, hiding a small smile as it spread across his lips.

"At least it's free." Dean flashed a winning grin and leaned ahead to turn up the music.

Sam moved in to place a hand in front of the dial. "I think it's loud enough."

"No way, I can still hear myself think." Dean reached past Sam's hand to turn the volume up a bit more.

The music screamed through the speakers and Sam sighed wearily. He looked up ahead and saw a dirt road that turned into the trees. Soft orange glow filtered through the woodlands and Sam's heart skipped. There were no power lines, but that didn't mean there was nobody around. The soft light served to tell him _that_ much.

"Dean, pull into the road up there." Sam shouted above the music.

"What?" Dean yelled.

"Pull into that road!"

"I can't hear you Sammy." Dean smirked.

Sam glared and thrust his hand to hit the 'off' button on the radio. Silence fell over the car.

"What'd you do _that_ for?" Dean replied.

"Turn into the road." Sam said steadily.

"What road?" Dean asked, scouting the trees.

Sam looked out the window and sighed.

"The road you just passed."

"What for?"

"I saw a light in the trees, maybe there's someone there."

Dean gawked blankly at Sam, who shifted under the scrutiny he was receiving.

"Sam, there are no power lines. How can there be people?" Dean questioned, moving his head back and forth awkwardly as he struggled to look beyond the back seats and into the woods.

"Maybe it's a camping area. Can't we at least _try_ it?"

"Fine." The oldest brother replied and backed the car up so he could turn into the road.

Five minutes of driving later, Dean came across a large pickup truck parked on the side of the road. The pale moonlight bounced off the white roof and gave it an almost haunting appearance. Beyond the truck, the road continued, but it was more of a walking trail. The Impala wouldn't fit and Dean sure as hell wasn't going to try it. No sense in scratching up his baby. It was his pride and joy and he didn't want her scarred.

"Looks like we're walking from here." Dean said as he pulled his car in behind the truck. Sam cast a questioning glance Dean's way.

"What? You're not scared are you, Sammy?" Dean questioned, his voice taking on the tone that one would use when talking to a child.

"Get out of the car, Dean." Sam said and made a move to do the same.

Dean chuckled in amusement as he opened the door and pushed himself out onto the narrow, dirt path. He stretched the kinks out of his muscles and ran a hand through his hair before closing the door and walking around front to meet Sam.

"Did you lock up?" He asked.

"Would I forget?" Sam questioned. His tone was a bit exasperated.

"I dunno, but I don't want anyone to kidnap my girl." Dean grinned and ran an affectionate hand over the hood of the car that glittered in what little light there was.

Sam shook his head, not responding to the statement and began to walk down the trail. Dean quickly caught up and fell into step next to him. As Sam walked on, a tingling sensation began to ripple up his spine to send alarms off in his head. He stopped suddenly and squinted into the dark woods surrounding them.

"What is it?" Dean questioned; knowing very well about the weird _vibes_ that Sam got every once in a while.

"Just a feeling." Sam murmured and swept his eyes across the trail in front of him. The soft orange glow he'd seen earlier was just a little way down the road. The light swayed and danced hypnotically in the darkness, and Sam began to walk toward it.

Short minutes later, the brothers emerged from the trail and found themselves in a clearing. A shadowy tent sat on the edge of the woods, and a lively fire crackled in welcome at the front of it. Dean clapped his brother affectionately on the shoulder and made his way to where the fire glittered.

"Excuse me!" Dean called when he saw three men sitting near the flames.

The men looked up suspiciously and Dean thought he saw one of the men reach for the knife he had clipped at his belt. Dean raised his hands in a symbol of innocence.

"Hey, there's no need for that. We're not going to hurt anyone. It's just that we're lost and we need to know where we are, or directions to the nearest motel would be really great too." Dean said slowly.

"How do we know that?" One of the men asked.

"My word?" Dean questioned hopefully. His word was all he had to offer.

The man smiled and nodded. Apparently Dean's word was enough to convince him, but the other two didn't look half as convinced as the first one.

"C'mere. You boys must be cold." The man said and motioned to the fire.

No, it wasn't really cold out, it was mid June, not exactly what Dean would call cold, but he didn't want to jeopardize the shaky trust he had already gained and so nodded with a grateful smile and led Sam to the campfire.

"Thanks, it _is_ a bit nippy." Dean said.

"No it's not." The man who had reached for his knife replied, his voice was gruff and inquiring.

"Leave the boys alone, Gray. If they're cold, they're more than welcome to come and sit with us." The man that had welcomed them stated.

"Get over here. My name's Ron Macafee. That's Tyler Grant, and he's Gray McPhail. Don't mind Gray, he really won't hurt you." Ron said.

"I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam." Dean stated.

"Well Dean and Sam, why don't you two come and sit with us for a while?"

Dean and Sam returned the smile a bit uncomfortably, but took a seat next to Tyler and stared into the fire.

"So, you boys are lost eh?" Ron asked.

"Yes sir, we are." Sam said.

"Hell of a place to get lost." Tyler put forth with a sly smirk.

"What do you mean?" Sam questioned cautiously as the tingling sensation returned.

"These woods are haunted by a vengeful cook who was murdered by his boss."

"Haunted?" Dean asked, his interest was clearly piqued.

"Yep. The ghost screams at night, not many people like to stay here after dark."

Ron snorted. "An old legend. Nobody knows if it's true or not. It's just something to keep people coming here, y'know what I'm talking about?"

"I think I do." Dean said and cast a curious glance toward Sam who was rubbing a hand across the back of his neck as though to banish a strange feeling.

"It's not a legend, it's as true as I'm sitting here. These woods _are_ haunted. I saw the Whooper with my own eyes a few years back." Tyler said, his blue eyes glistening in the firelight.

"I was with you, Tyler. You _thought_ you saw him, but you don't know for sure. These woods are tricky. They can make ya see things that aren't there." Ron replied.

"The Whooper?" Dean asked curiously.

"Yeah, the Whooper. He was a cook for a logging camp. His boss got jealous of his money and killed him. The other loggers were away at the time of the murder, but they could hear that man's screams all the way across the river. They hurried to get back, and when they got there, the boss was gone and the cook was dead on the floor. They buried him in a grave next to Whooper spring. That's upstream from Dead Boy's Spring, about a half mile down an old mud road." Tyler stated. Dean and Sam listened intently.

"There are different versions of the story. I heard that there are ever-blooming flowers on the grave by Whooper Spring and that the ghost of that murdered cook rises screaming from the grave if ever the flowers or the dirt are disturbed. There's an apparition that lures folks into the woods, where they get lost. Then the Whooper will bring the man closer with the smell of bacon. That's when the he bursts through the trees shrieking and coming nearer and nearer to the man that came at the smell. Some men were found dead and it's thought that the Whooper scared them to death." Gray muttered. Those were his first words since Dean and Sam had sat down.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group sitting around the campfire and only the whispering wind was there to break it. Sam rubbed at the tingling sensation dashing up and down his arms in the form of goose bumps. Dean watched his little brother carefully for a few minutes before gently tapping him on the shoulder.

"You okay Sammy?" Dean asked, worry tingeing his voice.

"Fine." Sam replied distractedly, not even mentioning the fact that Dean had called him Sammy again.

"Then again, those are only stories and there haven't been any facts to prove them. I personally have never heard the Whooper scream, but it serves to keep the river alive eh?" Ron nudged Dean in an all knowing sort of way.

"Yeah." Dean agreed and once again cast his eyes to Sam who seemed to be lost in thought.

"You told us we picked a bad spot to get lost, but _where_ are we?" Dean asked.

"You're on the Renous, a little more than halfway through. Why? Where are you headed?"

"The United States." Dean said.

"Well, you're a ways away from there. To get there you gotta turn back toward Plaster Rock. That place is a few hours that way." Ron said and pointed beyond Sam.

"A few hours? That's not so bad. Is there a motel there?" Dean asked.

"There was last time I checked. You're not gonna go back there tonight are you? There are so many wild animals out on these roads. There's no telling where one would be. There have been so many accidents because of deer running onto the road." Ron spoke.

"We were thinking about going there." Dean answered.

"We could offer you a place to sleep. I've got an extra tent in my truck if you don't mind camping." Ron replied.

Dean wasn't really one for camping, but the fact that the nearest place was few hours away and the realization of how tired he _really_ was made him think twice before getting in his baby and driving off. Not to mention the newest paranormal entity that had just been brought up. He was interested in this spirit and he didn't even know why.

"I don't mind it. What about you, Sam?" Dean asked, drawing his little brother out of his thoughts.

"What?" Sam questioned.

"These guys have offered us a place to stay for the night. Ron has an extra tent in his truck. Would that be okay with you?" Dean asked seriously. He wanted to be sure Sam was okay with staying before making any final decisions.

"Whatever." Sam replied.

"Sam, what do you say?" Dean asked.

"We can stay, I don't mind." Sam replied, but his voice sounded strangely cautious and Dean wasn't sure if it was a good cautious or a bad cautious.

TBC…

**A/N: Yes, Dead Boy's Spring is a real place along the river, and so is Whooper's spring. The Renous is a real place too, by the way. Anyway, until next time, let me know your thoughts! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow! I wasn't expecting such a huge response for my first Supernatural piece, but I'm glad that people are enjoying my work. Please keep the responses coming, I love to read them, they truly make my day, or in this case _night_. Anyhow, thanks to all those who took the time to leave a note, I appreciate it! On with the next chapter!**

**Chapter 2**

Dean fell into step behind Ron as the man made his way out to the truck to retrieve the tent. A cautious Sam walked behind. The young man had fallen into an eerie silence ever since arriving and Dean was beginning to get suspicious. His baby brother sensed that something wasn't quite right, and Dean believed it. There was definitely something dark and creepy about this river and these woods, he just didn't know what. Not _yet_ anyway.

They had come up on the two vehicles parked one behind the other and Ron let out a low whistle of admiration as he eyed Dean's Impala shining in the moonlight.

"Is she yours?" Ron questioned.

"She sure is." Dean said proudly.

"You must be proud of her."

"You better believe it." Dean said.

Ron climbed into the box of his truck and searched around for a few moments before coming across the unused tent and handing it over the edge to Dean, who took it gently, being careful not to knock anyone out.

The man jumped down from the back of the truck and landed with silent gracefulness as though he'd done it hundreds of times before. Dean nodded approvingly and turned to face Sam, who had his eyes focused on scanning the forest for any signs of danger.

"So, about this Whooper. Has there been any proof of his existence?" Sam asked suddenly, his voice hauntingly hollow in the dense darkness.

"Sam, it's just a legend, _nobody_ has any proof of it. I know that Tyler sounded pretty sure of himself, but I assure you, he doesn't have a lick of evidence supporting his claim to seeing the Whooper. I was with him and I didn't see anything. He saw a flash in the woods near dusk and automatically labeled it as the Whooper. He's paranoid, but he's a good guy."

"Have you ever been to the gravesite?" Sam questioned, his voice still hollow.

"No. I don't have any reason to go that far back in the woods. I have all the fish I want right in that river near our campsite. I don't even know if there really _is_ grave."

"I do. There _is_ a grave, and the Whooper _does_ exist. I know what I saw, Ron. I saw a young man who was mutilated beyond recognition and he was heading straight for me with this look of pure madness on his face. The ghost doesn't only exist, but he's crazy as hell. He's real." Tyler's voice pierced the darkness and made all three men jump.

"Tyler, you don't know squat. You could've seen _anything_ that day; you were so hyped up on whatever that doctor had you on after your accident. You shouldn't have even come with us. _You're_ the one who chose to go against the Doc's orders. The simple truth of it all is that I didn't see what you saw." Ron said, his voice quietly scolding.

"I saw what I saw." Tyler replied, but his voice had become hushed and uncertain.

Dean and Sam watched the rivaling exchange between the two men, but kept out of it. They didn't have any right poking around someone's personal life. It wasn't their job, their job was much more testing, and proved to be _much_ more dangerous than getting on the wrong end of a feud.

Tyler and Ron stopped exchanging arguments when they caught sight of the two men accompanying them, both of whom looked more than a little uncomfortable. Ron smiled tightly and began to walk back down the trail to the campsite where Gray was still waiting next to the fire.

"You can set up over there." Ron pointed to a spot next to one of the main tents.

"Thanks again for this." Dean replied.

"Don't mention it, we're just glad we could help." Ron smiled and came over to give his assistance.

Fifteen minutes later, the tent was up and all were sitting around the campfire talking happily. There was no sign of anything strange and unusual in these woods, maybe all of the tales _were_ simply stories and nothing more, maybe the Whooper _didn't_ exist.

"I think I'm gonna turn in." Sam replied quietly and made to get up.

Dean stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist. "You feeling okay, Sammy?"

Sam nodded, but his face looked pale in the silver moon and Dean was a little nervous about how weird his baby brother had been acting ever since turning into the road.

"I'm fine Dean, just tired." Sam brushed the concerned question off and bade goodnight to all those sitting around the fire before vanishing into the tent. There was a bit of movement behind the canvas walls and then nothing, but silence as the youngest Winchester settled in for the night.

"Is there something wrong?" Tyler asked after the silence had fallen. He kept his voice at a whisper so Sam couldn't hear the words being exchanged.

"I dunno." Dean replied quietly, his eyes lingering on the tent before turning back to the fire where he gazed deep into the flames that danced and crackled in the night.

* * *

Acouple of hours, perhaps less, after Dean had finally left the fireside to settle down for the night, he awoke with no explanation as to why. The first thing he did was turn to the spot where Sam had been sleeping quietly when last he checked. 

To his astonishment, his brother was nowhere to be seen. The sleeping bag that Sam had been occupying was wrinkled and empty, thrown in a heap in the far corner. The door was open and flapping in the slight breeze that chilled the night, but other than that, all seemed well.

The only thing was, it _wasn't_ well. Sammy was gone, and Dean had no idea _where_. He brushed the sleep from his eyes, staggered to his feet, and immediately exited the tent. He squinted into the dark night, which seemed even _darker_ than it had when he went to bed. That wasn't very hard to comprehend though, after all, some time had passed since Dean was last outside.

His squinting did nothing for his vision however, because he couldn't see Sam _anywhere_. The only things he could see were the shadows of the forest as the trees reached skyward and the dark, snakelike river twisting among the riverbanks.

"Sam!" Dean yelled into the night, his voice echoed through the trees and ghosted away on the breeze. He received no response.

"Sammy! Sammy, where are you?" Dean called again, his voice taking on a desperate edge.

He looked anxiously around and then instantly made his way to Ron's tent where he knocked his hand against the canvas walls.

"Ron! Ron, wake up." Dean called. Normally he didn't like to interfere with anyone's sleep, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The sound of movement inside made Dean's heart jump hopefully. The tent door was opened and a very tired looking Ron poked his head out.

"What is it? What's wrong?" The man asked, his voice rattled wearily in his throat, but Dean felt no guilt, his baby brother was missing.

"Sammy's gone." Dean replied urgently.

"Gone? Where'd he go?"

"I don't know, I was hoping you would."

"No, I haven't seen him since he went to bed."

"Shit!" Dean said sharply, his eyes flashed worriedly in the moonlight.

"We'll help you find him." Ron said quickly, then turned back inside the tent.

"Tyler! Gray! Get your asses out of bed, one of the boys are missing." Ron yelled. There were mumbled replies, but nobody moved.

"Damn it, get up!" Ron shouted.

Grumbled replies, and then there was movement. The two men stumbled out of their sleeping bags and outside where Ron and Dean were waiting anxiously.

"What is it?" Gray asked in annoyance.

"Dean's brother is missing. I told him that we'd help look for him." Ron replied matter-of-factly.

"Missing?" Tyler questioned.

"Yes!" Dean replied urgently and cast a glance around the camping area.

"Dean, we'll help you find him, don't worry, he couldn't have gotten very far." Ron said in an attempt to soothe the young man's worry.

"I'll get the flashlights." Tyler replied and disappeared back into the tent, emerging a few moments later with three flashlights. He handed one to Ron, and then to Gray.

"What's this for?" Gray asked, his voice sharp.

"Light. If we're going to help find Sam, we need light." Tyler replied.

"He's not my responsibility, I didn't even want them to stay. If you want to find him so bad, why don't _you_ do it?" Gray said.

Dean lunged forward and grabbed the man's shirt collar. His eyes flashed angrily as he stared the older man down.

"My brother is missing, damn it! If it were _your_ brother, you'd want help too." Dean said, his voice was cutting and filled with anger, as his grip remained closed tightly around the material he held.

"I don't have a brother, I have a sister, and she's not _stupid_ enough to wander Whooper woods at night. If your brother is, then it's _your_ problem, not mine." Gray snapped.

Dean made to punch Gray for speaking about his brother in that way, but Ron's hand stopped him. Dean turned flashing eyes on Ron and kept stonily silent as he waited for an explanation.

"Forget it, Dean, Tyler and I will help you look. We'll find your brother." Ron spoke, his voice eerily calm.

Dean shoved Gray back and the man stumbled a bit before regaining his balance and staring daggers in Dean's direction. Gray's face was angrily flashing and his jaw worked as though he was trying to say something, but couldn't.

With a final stare, Dean turned away and took the flashlight that Tyler offered him.

"We'll start down by the river, that'd be the most likely place to find him." Tyler said and led the way to the water's edge where they shone their lights up and down the land. Dean's light hovered over a spot on the ground and he knelt. Footprints were indented in the dark mud and they led _into_ the river.

"Here." Dean replied, pointing to the footprints.

"They Sam's?" Ron questioned.

"I don't know, but they look about the right size."

"It looks like he went _into_ the river." Tyler stated.

"He likely went _across_ the river." Ron added. He shone his light to the other side of the bank and scanned the area.

A flash of movement darted across the beam and Ron jumped slightly.

"There, what is that?" Tyler questioned as he as well locked his eyes on the opposite side of the river. A dark shadow was moving slowly and silently down the riverbank and into the forest.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"I dunno, but it just went down the trail to Dead Boy's spring." Ron whispered.

"Then we're going too." Dean said evenly, he stepped into the river and gasped as the cold water sliced through his jeans and the current tugged at his legs.

He pushed his way through the water, which never went past his waist and pulled himself out on the other side. A sweep of his flashlight behind him let him know that Ron and Tyler were following. He cast his light to the trail the shadow had moved into and a glimmer of white caught his eye. He thought back to the previous day, Sam had been wearing a white T-shirt!

"Sammy?" Dean called to the shape. It stopped for a split second then kept going. When Tyler and Ron had come to stand behind him, he began to jog after the white shape. He was comforted when he heard their footfalls running behind him.

Dean once again passed the light he held over the trail in front of him, but was surprised to see nothing there. Not even the flicker of white he had seen hovered in the path ahead, it was only dark. Dean stopped.

"It's gone." He replied. His voice was breathy from running.

Thick silence covered the dark forest and the trees seemed to close in around them. A sweep of the light showed no trail anywhere. As Dean and the others gazed into the dark, the forest seemed to shudder followed by a blood-curdling howl that pierced the night and made everybody's ears ring. The howling continued, sounding like screaming that came from just above their heads. The sound slashed through the trees and echoed around them as they desperately searched for the person or thing that made the noise


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The screaming came from everywhere and nowhere, and there was no reasonable explanation as to where it was, or what was making the sound.

"The Whooper." Came the breathy words from Tyler's general area. The man sounded nervous, but not terrified.

"The wind." Ron was quick to correct.

"There _is_ no wind." Tyler pointed out. Sure enough, there _wasn't_ any wind. The forest was eerily silent aside from the horrific screaming inhabiting the air.

Ten minutes passed with nobody daring to move and the screams ended suddenly leaving only the quiet to hang in the air. A sigh drifted gently over the land and Dean felt his heart hammering in his chest. His blood rushed in his ears as he searched desperately for a sign of anything. He got nothing.

"Maybe we should turn back to see if your brother went back to camp." Tyler suggested.

"No! Sammy's out here somewhere, I saw a flash of his shirt earlier." Dean replied, although he knew very well that what he saw might have been a tactic trick on the Whooper's behalf. Perhaps the spirit had been creating an illusion to lure them in. The stories told earlier that night around the fire _had_ mentioned something such as that.

As Dean scanned the area, his flashlight promptly went dead, plunging him into darkness. He looked around for the lights of Ron and Tyler, but didn't see them.

"Dean, Tyler? You guys okay?" Ron's voice came from somewhere to Dean's back.

"Yeah, my light just went dead." Tyler spoke.

"Mine too." Dean replied.

"That's odd. Mine went out too."

There was a clicking in the night as all three men tried to coax their lights into coming back on. Nothing they did served to do them any good. The lights simply refused to work.

Something cold brushed past Dean and he immediately turned toward it. He saw nothing.

A gasp came from one of the others.

"What is it? What happened?" Tyler asked, his voice shaky.

"Something just went by me." Ron answered.

"Let's get back to camp." Tyler replied.

"But…" Dean's words trailed.

"Dean, our lights are dead and we don't know where the hell we are. Getting lost ourselves isn't going to do Sam any good." Tyler quipped.

"Fine, but if he's not at camp when we get there, we go to look for him." Dean said.

"Yes, first thing in the morning. It'll be easier on all of us if we can _see_ in our search." Ron said.

Dean sighed in frustration. He didn't _want_ to wait until morning; he wanted to find Sam before something _else_ found him. However, at the moment, he really didn't have a lot of choice, he had been plunged into darkness and had no idea where he was or where to go. Tyler and Ron were his best hopes at the moment. They seemed to know their ways around fairly well; they _did_ come here every year after all.

"Fine." He replied, but he wasn't about to give up that easily.

"Which way goes back?" Tyler questioned.

"Let's just turn around and walk back the way we came. Eventually we're bound to find the river and from there we can follow it back to camp." Ron answered.

There were words of agreement exchanged and then there was shuffling in the night as Ron turned and made his way back the way they had come in the first place.

What felt like an hour later, Dean felt cold air strike his face as he broke through the trees behind Tyler and Ron. The river cried along the riverbed as rocks and stones sliced through its surface. A faint firelight was flickering across the river in the area of the campsite and Dean stepped off the bank and made his way toward it, the water sobbing around his legs.

A shadow was moving next to the fire and the search party of three walked nearer to it. As they drew closer, the form looked up and a pale face shone in the swaying flames.

"Dean!" A voice called.

"Sammy?" The eldest Winchester asked, confusion wrinkling his brow.

"Where the hell have you been?" Sam replied as Dean stepped into the glittering flames.

"Looking for you, where _were_ you?"

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. I went for a walk." Sam said simply.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean asked dumbly.

"You were asleep." Sam stated matter-of-factly. A small smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.

Dean glared. "Are you all right?" He questioned finally.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam's eyes drifted across the group of three men who were soaking wet to their waists.

"Are you?" Sam wondered, smiling a bit wider.

Dean only glared in silence, deciding not to answer Sam's words. Instead he let his eyes wander around the camping area.

"Where's Gray?" Dean asked finally.

Sam shrugged. "He wasn't here when I got back. I was just about to go looking for you."

"How long have you been back?" Tyler questioned.

"Only a few minutes. The fire was going when I got here." Sam answered uncertainly.

"Strange. He should be here." Ron answered.

Suddenly a man's scream pierced the air, but it wasn't the same scream as Dean had heard before.

"Gray!" Ron exclaimed.

Dean instantly turned to look across the river, which was where the noise was coming from and began to run toward it. Footfalls followed him and he glanced back over his shoulder to see the others running along behind him.

What seemed like an eternity of running later, Dean crashed through the forest and stumbled into a clearing where he saw a crumpled form sprawled near the centre. He jogged to it and dropped to his knees, reaching out to turn it over.

Gray's face stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes. Dean reached to the man's neck to feel for a pulse. A beat fluttered weakly under his fingers and died away. Not quite knowing what else to do, he began to perform CPR on the still man, immediately forgetting any bad blood between them.

"Sammy, call an ambulance." Dean replied urgently as the beat once again picked up to thump weakly beneath his touch.

Sam fumbled in his pocket for the phone and brought it out. He turned it on and moved around a bit, lifting the phone high and switching position.

"There's no signal, Dean." Sam replied anxiously.

"Damn!" Dean yelled as the beat once again died under his fingers.

"Tyler, go get the truck." Ron yelled, pointing in the dark across the river.

"Wait! Don't go alone. Take Sam with you." Dean replied casting a glance to Sam, who nodded and began to run after Tyler.

Dean continued compressions until he got another heartbeat and continued to breathe for the ailing man.

Some time later, Tyler and Sam returned without the truck.

"It won't start, Ron." Tyler replied.

"Stay here Sam, Ron come with me, I'll see if I can get my car started." Dean replied, wanting either Sam or himself to stay close to Gray and Tyler incase something unexpected came up.

Sam took up Dean's previous position and offered the medical attention to Gray while Dean and Ron ran to the car.

As they ran through the woods and across the river, the horrible screaming began to blast through the trees again. Dean felt his heart race. He hoped the thing wasn't after Sam and the others. The _minute_ Dean could unlock the car; he lunged for it and slid quickly into the driver's seat.

He tried the key countless times, but the engine barely rolled over.

"Aw, C'mon baby, don't do this to me." Dean pleaded. The car didn't comply. The engine coughed sickly under the hood and died away.

Dean hit the steering wheel and got back out with a colourful curse.

"It's not going to work. Would there be any cars passing by here?" Dean asked.

"Maybe, but don't count on it. Most of the people I know choose to take the TC. It's faster." Ron said.

"But there's a chance?" Dean asked.

"Possibly." Ron said.

"That's all we need." He went around to the trunk and opened it to reveal his large collection of weaponry.

"Holy jeez, are you boys in the weapon smuggling business?" Ron asked.

"No. Just take this and go to the road. If you see anything move, shoot it." Dean replied and tossed Ron a shotgun.

"But…"

"Just do it!" Dean yelled and waved toward the road.

Ron nodded and ran down the trail, vanishing into the thick night. Overhead, the thing still screamed.

Dean grabbed a few weapons for himself, shut the trunk and ran back to check on Sam and the other two. He stumbled over a raise in the land, but didn't go down. He kept running and didn't look back; he ignored the screaming and pressed on, splashing through the water.

Breathless, and slick with perspiration, he hurried into the clearing where Sam waited. Without a word he handed Sam a couple of weapons and set the others aside.

"What're you going to do with those?" Tyler asked urgently.

"Relax, we're not gonna shoot you. They're for protection." Dean replied.

"Where's Ron?" Sam questioned.

"The car wouldn't start, I sent him to the road to flag down a passing vehicle."

"I doubt he'll find one. Everyone takes the TC now." Tyler said.

"Yeah, he told me, but he said there was a _chance_." Dean said.

"A remote one."

"That's all we need." Sam replied.

The screaming stopped abruptly and left the thick woods in silence once again.

"What the hell _was_ that?" Sam asked.

"The Whooper." Tyler said quickly. His voice was anxious and fearful.

Dean and Sam cast a silent glance between them and in that one look, thousands of words were exchanged. They knew that something was up with these woods and it wasn't anything good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Long, agonizing minutes passed until Tyler struck a match and shone it around the clearing. There wasn't much to see in the little light the swaying flame provided. Dean could just make out the woods surrounding him with dark shadowy trees and faint rustling of the branches in the breeze. The forest was filled with various creaks coming from tree tops bending in the wind, but nothing else.

A trail drifted through the forest and led to an unseen area, shrouded by dark. As he surveyed the grounds, he realized that he was actually standing on the twisting path. Grey shadows slithered across his forehead and fell over his eyes to merge with the surrounding dark. It gave him an oddly malicious appearance as his hazel eyes flashed from within the depths of the shadows.

On the ground, next to Sam, Gray gave a shuddering breath and grabbed the young man's attention. Sam placed timid fingers to the man's neck and sighed in relief when he felt the pulse beating steadily beneath his touch.

"Is he…" Tyler's voice trailed as his eyes wandered to rest on the man.

"He's fine." Sam replied.

The match went out and Tyler cursed as the flame had singed his fingertips.

Dean grabbed a handful of grass from the side of the trail and a few nearby sticks. He walked carefully to the dark figures of the others. He knelt and set the objects down.

"Give me a match." Dean spoke.

A matchbook was placed cautiously in his hand. He fumbled inside, with only the moonlight to guide him and struck one of the tiny wooden sticks. It ignited in flame and lit up the grounds again. Dean hovered the flaming match above the haphazard fire pit he'd created and waited for it to catch the heat.

Moments later a small fire began and orange light fled from it to brighten the area. Dean quickly got up and gathered a few more sticks to add to the hungry flame until the fire built up tolerance to the breeze. The dancing light ghosted across the faces of those who had gathered around.

Sam had lifted Gray's head to rest on his thigh and gently moved closer to the fire to keep the older man warm. He cast anxious eyes into the brush surrounding the trail and chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. The wind whispered through the air and passed chilled fingers across each man's cheek.

A flash of movement glimmered in the trail ahead and Dean's eyes instantly went to it. A dark, shapeless form was moving softly and silently toward them, slithering through the night and drifting flawlessly over pebbles and slight hills. Dean's heart picked up pace as his eyes remained locked on the approaching figure.

A cold exhale of air struck Dean's face and made his eyes water. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, the figure was gone. He turned his head from left to right in search of the thing, but saw nothing. He turned around and his eyes swept across the fire and three men, two of whom were watching Dean curiously. Sam's face was pale, and Dean knew that he knew. Sam nodded stiffly when Dean's gaze rested on him.

Cold, hard fingers touched the back of Dean's neck and traveled around until they rested beneath his chin. He shuddered as goosebumps began to break out in patches all over his body. His eyes searched the empty area in front of him, but found nothing. The fingers vanished and Dean felt a whispering breath linger on his cheek, coating his chilled skin in a sick and uncomfortable layer. He shook himself to banish the feeling and saw Sam's eyes boring deep into him.

"It's here, isn't it?" Tyler asked uncertainly.

"It is, move closer to the fire." Dean instructed and began to create a protective circle around the men inside.

"What are you doing?" Tyler asked.

"Protection. Stay inside it." Dean instructed. Tyler only nodded anxiously.

Footsteps ran up the trail toward them and Dean turned, aiming his weapon at the noise. Ron's breathless form stepped into the firelight and his eyes widened when he saw the gun Dean had pointed at him.

"It's only me!" Ron spoke eagerly.

A shapeless form hovered maliciously behind the man and Dean's eyes widened. He lunged toward Ron and roughly shoved him out of the way when the dark shape raised an arm. Dean felt a chill slice through him as he just missed the arm himself. He fell in a heap on the ground and watched Tyler reach outside of the circle and pull Ron in just as he was getting to his feet.

Dean rolled to his back and saw the shadow floating above him. Pinpoints of green glittered in the firelight and drilled into the core of Dean's very soul. He slammed his eyes shut against them and rolled, hoping he'd be able to make it behind the protective ring.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the shapeless shadow a slight distance away, drifting back and forth anxiously. Dean breathed in relief and clambered to his feet.

The shadow screamed out the song of the Whooper and it rang painfully in all ears that listened. Dean grimaced and brought his hands up to cover his ailing ears and watched the shadow through squinted eyes. The shape vanished and the forest was once again plunged into a deadly silence.

"What the hell was that?" Ron asked.

"Ron, meet the Whooper. It looks like he _does_ exist after all." Dean said simply, his eyes still locked on the empty spot where the thing had been.

Ron was stunned into silence and cast wide, dark eyes around the small area that was protected.

"Did you find help?" Tyler asked. His voice was shaken, but not hysterical.

"Yeah, an old pick up truck. He was a bit nervous at the sight of the rifle in my hands, but said he'd get help as soon as possible."

"He didn't come in?" Tyler questioned.

"No, he refused, said he wasn't stupid enough to wander Whooper Woods at night." Ron replied.

"Smart man." Dean muttered.

"How long do you think it'll take to get help in here?" Sam wondered.

"A while. Like I said, it's a couple hours drive back to town, and that's when you're speeding. After that, the hospital is about five or ten minutes away. It'll likely be close to four in the morning by the time that help makes its way out here." Ron said.

Dean looked at his watch.

"So five hours then." Dean replied. He looked to Sam. "Will he last that long?" Dean asked, motioning to the still man Sam was supporting.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe."

"But maybe not." Dean finished.

Sam only shrugged. "It depends."

"Even if help _does_ come, who's to say the Whooper won't get them?" Tyler asked tightly.

"We'll have to be sure that doesn't happen." Dean said and cast his eyes down the trail.

"How far is Whooper spring from here?" Dean wondered. His eyes were deadly serious.

"You've got to be kidding!" Ron exclaimed.

"I'm not. How far?"

"Probably a half hour walk. Why?"

"Sam and I have to go there." Dean finalized. Sam's face was impassive, he knew they had to go.

"You'll never make it with the Whooper wondering about." Tyler said.

"Yes we will. We have to." Dean locked eyes with Sam who nodded.

Sam turned to Tyler. "Do you know CPR?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I took a first aid course, why?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on Gray. To be here if something happens."

"You're actually going along with this? Are you crazy?"

"Maybe." Sam replied. His voice was completely serious.

"But…" Tyler began. Sam cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"I need someone to watch Gray, can you do it?"

"Yes."

"Good, come over here. Keep his head elevated, keep him close to the fire, and keep him warm." Sam instructed, motioning for Tyler to take his place.

He gently lifted Gray's head and moved out from under it. Tyler took his place and Gray's head was laid to rest on _his_ thigh. Sam shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the silent man.

"Okay?" Sam asked.

Tyler nodded and tucked the jacket around Gray.

Sam turned to Dean. "I'm ready."

"Stay in the circle, don't move out of it for _anything_! Do you understand? It's crucially important for you to stay inside it." Dean instructed.

Tyler nodded.

"But, you don't even know the way!" Ron exclaimed.

"We'll find it. It can't be _that_ hard to find." Dean said.

"Do you want me to come along?" Ron asked.

"No!" Both Dean and Sam cried in unison. Ron looked taken aback.

"No, Ron. You have to stay here. Shoot anything that moves, unless it's help, or Sam, or myself." Dean replied quickly.

"Okay, fine. Just remember that the first spring you come to is Dead Boy's spring. You'll get there in about twenty minutes. Keep walking and the next spring you reach will be Whooper's. Be careful." Ron said.

"Thanks. Let's go, Sam." Dean replied and with a deep breath he stepped outside of the circle.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, it's overwhelmingly awesome that I'm getting such a huge response to my first work in the realm of Supernatural. I'm glad everyone's enjoying it! Keep it up!**

**Chapter 5**

The second the brothers stepped out of the circle, they knew the Whooper was aware of it. A soft breath passed over the ground and spun around their legs as if to push them down the trail.

"Dean?" Ron's voice asked.

Dean turned back.

"If you're going to try to exorcise the spirit, it won't work. A priest has already attempted it. He died." Ron spoke.

Dean was silent as he cast stony hazel eyes over the three men inside the circle.

"Stay in the circle." Dean finalized before turning away again and walking down the trail toward Whooper spring. Sam followed in uneasy silence.

In the dark, the trail seemed long. With only the light of the moon to lead them, it seemed even _longer_. It twisted and turned through the trees. It confused and taunted them with whispering breaths of malice carried by the wind from the trail's end. A strong chill had settled in the air and small tendrils of steam came from each man's mouth with every exhale. Sam rubbed his cold hands against his bare arms and tried to stop shivering. Dean cast sympathetic glances to his younger brother and wished that there was something he could do to help, but he'd left his jacket back at the fire as well.

Through the forest to the right, the rippling river rushed by with a fearful cry of sorrow and longing. Dean squinted through the trees and saw the silver moon dancing atop the water to release shimmering silver diamonds with every step. Shadows slithered across the path with sick amusement at the darkness they created as they moved.

Dean and Sam pressed on through the deafening silence that claimed them and coated them in a thick sheet. The maliciously whispering breeze continued to taunt them, laughing in their ears and sending soft breaths to prance across their faces and make them shiver.

A clearing loomed ahead and Dean was the first to step forward. The moon bathed it in a soft glow that illuminated the trees in pale silver and a slight inlet from the river grabbed greedily at the shoreline. The water was dark and the moon sent crystalline light bouncing off of it to shimmer in the night.

The heavy chill still sat in the night, blanketing all in a strong sense of overwhelming cold. Foggy steam began to hover above the inlet and the crystal light kept dancing on the darkened water.

"Wrong spring. We have to keep going." Dean replied. Sam nodded in the dark, but he was invisible to all eyes as the darkness swallowed him up.

A cloud crossed the face of the moon and ruthlessly murdered any light the silver orb cast down to the cold Earth on which the supernatural walked among the living.

Dean kept walking, sensing his way down the path, and going where the forces tugged him. His eyes scampered anxiously across the ground, looking into the far corners of the darkened woodland for any secrets that lurked deep in the shadows. Occasionally he tossed a glance into the night behind him, or called his brother's name to be sure he was still following. Each time, Dean received Sam's reply in return and those replies allowed for him to relax a bit and focus on what lay ahead.

Another clearing, another inlet, this was the right one. Dean knew it. He could feel the dense sorrow hanging in the air and heard it crying in the background. He felt cold fear rippling up and down his spine, the hair on the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably and he shivered as a sharp chill jolted through him. The forest seemed to draw in a breath and the next second the horrific screaming slashed through the night and echoed fiercely in his head.

He brought his cold hands up to cover his ears and the screaming droned out to a loud hum.

"Sammy?" Dean yelled, stumbling in the dark in search of his little brother. He wanted to know that Sam was all right, wanted to be sure he was safe, he wanted to provide a protection against the screaming evil that shouted through the forest.

A hand gripped his side and he turned to see Sam's figure in the night. His brother's eyes locked onto his own and Sam nodded. He was fine.

Dean searched the clearing as the hazy light from the moon once again crept through the woodlands to touch the dark corners of the night. He searched in silence, and he saw it. The shapeless shadow rose from the ground and green eyes bored into him. The screaming grew in intensity and the shadow drifted toward Sam and himself. On pure instinct, he stepped in front of his brother to protect him.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" Sam hissed.

"Shut up Sammy. Stay behind me."

The shadow continued to advance and Dean cast his eyes down to the ground and saw with some curiosity that a wooden marker was sticking through the dirt. Further investigation, showed that he and Sam were standing directly in front of the marker.

The shadow advanced and Dean hurriedly shoved Sam off of the grave and into the shadows, hiding him from the prying green eyes of the Whooper. With weak knees, Dean stepped off of the ground on which he stood and the Whooper vanished, but the screams still thrashed through the night.

"Sam, are you okay?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine. What the hell do you think you were doing?" Sam asked, his voice was hard, but still thankful.

"What did it look like?" Dean questioned.

"I'm old enough to handle myself Dean, you could've gotten yourself killed!"

Dean was quiet as he kept an intense gaze on Sam's pale face, eerily illuminated by the moon.

"We're here. Now, if there are bones buried here, we'll try and put the spirit to rest." Dean replied no longer dwelling on Sam's previous words.

"You know what happens when the dirt is disturbed, Dean. We'll never be able to uncover him. He'll kill us first."

"Then let's hope it's a shallow grave."

Sam only nodded and watched as Dean dropped to his knees next to the grave and scratched at the hard ground with his bare hands. Neither had thought to bring a shovel. Within seconds, the air burst with the sounds of screaming and a shadowy hand pierced the ground to grab Dean, who immediately began to struggle wildly in the grasp of the Whooper.

"Dean!" Sam yelled and grabbed a handful of Dean's shirt to pull him back. He couldn't, and his eyes widened in worry as Dean was pulled into the grave.

"Dean!" Sam called when his grip slipped and Dean vanished.

Sam let wild eyes roam over the ground as he searched for his older brother to resurface. He watched in detached amazement, as the ground seemed to hollow and cave in to reveal a pile of dusty bones crumpled in an ungraceful heap at the bottom of the hole. Dean was nowhere to be seen.

Sam cursed aloud and dug into his pocket for a match. He pulled it out, struck it and tossed it into the hole. The bones snapped and crackled in the heat and Sam watched as they blackened and sunk deeper into the ground. Flames leapt from the hole and engulfed the old wooden marker to disintegrate it in an orange glow.

The flames died away, and so did the screaming. Sam searched with desperate eyes to find his brother, but didn't succeed. Dean was nowhere to be found.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Dean!" Sam called for his brother, something he'd been doing ever since the last flames flickered out of existence. That was a half-hour ago.

There had been no further screaming from the Whooper, yet thick sorrow still clung to the air. The sorrow mingled with the silence, which made for a fairly disconcerting feeling. A silent breeze came gusting from somewhere, and it pranced playfully through Sam's hair as though to assure him that all was well. There was one problem with that assurance though: it was false.

"Dean!" Sam called again and impatiently pushed aside a small tree. It snapped under the force he applied and the sound blared through the night like a gunshot.

The sound of pounding footsteps grew near to him and he turned, ready to fight should the need present itself. A dark form stood in front of him and as the moonbeams shimmered across the face, his eyes grew wide.

"Dean told you to stay in the circle!" Sam replied sharply.

"I know, but this is important." Ron's voice floated to him.

"What is it?" Sam asked, his heart beating in hopes of good news.

"Gray woke up after the screaming stopped. He was asking about you and saying something about Dean being taken. He was talking nonsense." Ron replied.

"Dean _was_ taken. I don't know where to, but he's gone." Sam spoke. His voice was distantly hollow.

Ron was silent, his mouth worked without words, and Sam saw the muscles in his jaw tighten and his face became hard and set.

"Do you want help to look for him?" Ron asked.

Sam nodded anxiously. Yes, he wanted help. He wanted to find Dean.

"Okay then. Where was he last?" Ron questioned.

Sam was quiet as he tried to work through the past hour or so and searched for a way to explain what had happened, without running the risk of sounding completely insane. He realized that there was no way to achieve that goal.

"This is going to sound crazy, but I swear that it's true." Sam began.

"Sam, after what I've been through tonight, _nothing_ can phase me."

"That's good, because you have to have an open mind about what I'm about to tell you. There are things that walk among us, things you only heard of in campfire stories as a kid. It may be hard to take in, but they exist. Dean and I hunt these things." Sam replied.

"So, you two are like modern day ghost busters without all that fancy busting technology?" Ron asked.

"You _could_ say that. We just call it hunting. Either way the supernatural _is_ real and it lives, or rather _lived_ in these woods."

"I got that much when that thing showed itself. Wait, you said it _lived_ in these woods, does that mean you got rid of it?" Ron questioned seriously.

"I think so, yeah." Sam said, yet his voice was hesitant.

"But?"

"But, Dean's still missing. The Whooper pulled him under when he was trying to dig up the bones to burn them." Sam replied, casting nervous eyes to the charred hole in the forest floor.

"The Whooper took him to the underworld?" Ron wondered.

"Not necessarily the underworld, but _somewhere_, and I don't know where."

"Then we should find him. Tyler's back at the ring with Gray, they're safe."

"Good." Sam finalized and began to search by the light of the moon.

* * *

Dean fell and his landing momentarily dazed him. When he awoke, it was to the sound of wind rustling through treetops overhead. How long had he been out? 

He forced his heavy eyes to open and winced at the lance of pain it sent shattering through the nerves in his brain. He groaned wearily and propped himself up on his elbows. Where was Sam?

He squinted into the darkness and saw a shapeless shadow moving through it. The shadow stopped and turned to face Dean. Green eyes glittered menacingly from within the darkened depths and an instant feeling of cold hit him. He found himself shivering uncontrollably as the formless shadow came upon him. It drifted lazily across the ground and came to stop mere feet away from Dean's vulnerable position. It only watched him silently.

Was it going to kill him? If so, why didn't it go ahead and get it over with? No, Dean didn't think it wanted to kill him, but he couldn't be sure. Malice hidden in the green eyes made him doubt his escaping alive.

"Um, hi?" Dean tried, his voice rasping weakly in his parched throat.

A scream split the night in half. The Whooper was singing again, and Dean stumbled to his feet, eyes trained on the shadow, and not moving elsewhere. The shadow reached a long, dark hand out to him and Dean pulled away in nervous disgust. He didn't want that thing touching him. The shadow lunged and Dean ducked. The entity once again began to advance on his position. Dean kept moving away, the Whooper kept following.

"Persistent bastard, aren't ya?" Dean spoke, his voice still hushed.

The screaming grew louder and the shadow drew nearer. It thrust a hand forward and Dean felt his stomach twist in an icy cold that quickly spread throughout his entire body. The Whooper locked eyes with Dean and continued to scream for vengeance.

"I get the picture. Now, shut up!" Dean yelled. The Whooper didn't hear, it kept screaming.

Sudden and deadly silence fell over the land. Above the ringing in his ears, Dean heard his heart as it pumped wildly and the blood rushed through his veins. He shivered under the chill, but showed no sign of weakness. The Whooper stared him down and Dean hazarded a step back. His foot hit nothing but air and he quickly returned it to the solid ground on which he stood.

Where the hell _was_ he? Nowhere familiar, that was for sure. Where was Sam? Was he okay? Dean could only hope that he was, because his younger brother was nowhere in his line of vision. Only the shadowy woods stared blankly back at him with eyes of stone that never shifted from their target. That target was Dean. The Whooper hovered dangerously close and the next instant flashes of a brutal murder flickered sickly through Dean's mind and clouded his vision with their gory scenes.

A young man with dark hair and green eyes backed away from a larger man wielding a knife. The dark haired man hit a wall and whimpered in fear as the other man brought the knife down to slash through the air, only to be stopped by the young man's arm that was raised for protection. The man screamed, and the scream ghosted through the woods and made Dean shiver. Dean struggled to see the face of the murderer, but failed, the face was covered in shadows.

The large man continued to drop the knife onto the whimpering and screaming man until the green eyes glazed over and the last dying screams drifted into the night. The large man smiled and went about removing anything of value the young man had. He then left the young man bleeding on the floor and with a final smirk of satisfaction and greed he bolted through the door and into the forest, which was beginning to darken as evening came to fall upon it.

Dean tried to go after him, but found that he was frozen to the very spot he stood. He was frozen like a statue, destined to gaze upon the world through sightless eyes that never moved. All Dean could do was watch. He did. He watched as the young man bled out and darkness came to fall over the cabin. The doors were thrown open to bang against the wall and a group of men hurried in, only to find the young man dead.

Dean tried to move again, and was relieved when he was able to take a step forward. He ran for the door, maybe he'd still be able to catch a glimpse of the murderer. Why did he want to do that? The murder was years old, but Dean felt compelled to follow the guilty man and so he did. He left the cabin behind and ran through the woods, his feet hit the ground without sound as he ducked and dodged through a twisting path only to be stopped next to an inlet from the river. A group of men stood quietly around a shallow grave and Dean pushed through the crowd to peer into the hole. The green-eyed man had been placed gently at the bottom and his hands had been folded across his chest.

Dean was silent as the man was buried. When the deed was done, a man stuck a wooden marker in the freshly disturbed dirt and nodded solemnly. The men vanished and Dean was alone with the fresh grave. He knelt down and placed a hand atop the ground. It was warm under his touch and he recoiled in fright as a hand broke through the surface. It was the classic scene from a zombie movie, but it scared the hell out of Dean. He scooted back as the mutilated form of the young man pulled himself from the dirt and cast green eyes on Dean's prone form.

The man began to advance and flickered in and out of existence. Dark curls fell across the man's forehead. He kept coming. Dean kept scooting. The ground ended and Dean felt himself tumbling back and cried out in surprise as he was submerged beneath icy water that grabbed at him like a hungry predator. He flailed wildly and broke through the surface only to see the young man standing calmly in front of him, eyes clouded with an unknown malice that Dean didn't like. The man reached for Dean and locked his hand around his neck. Dean struggled to breathe as he was shoved under the water.

He resurfaced and the man kept a strong gaze on him, as well as a grip around his neck. As Dean watched with fearful eyes, the man transformed into the shapeless shadow that Dean had grown accustomed to seeing wondering the woods. The green eyes still stared at him; they were the only things _remotely_ human about the Whooper. The Whooper flickered again and his grip loosened, Dean pulled away and watched the Whooper scream in pain before ghosting away with a final cry that shook the night.

The forest settled and Dean clambered out of the water and onto the riverbank where he shuddered against the chill that struck him. He turned to face the water and noted with a sense of awe that he was standing on the edge of Whooper spring. Whooper spring! That meant that he was close to the grave, and hopefully Sam. He heard footsteps behind him and turned, expecting to see Sam. Instead he saw nothing, but felt two hands firmly shove him back into the water. Pain blossomed in his skull as it connected with one of the rocks that pierced the water's surface.

Colourful dots danced in front of his vision and through the light show, he saw the green eyes of the murdered man watching him sternly before misting away. Dean struggled to gain his composure, but failed, he felt himself dip under the water and then darkness overtook his vision.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So sorry about the LONG overdue update! School and theatre got in the way and the past couple of weeks have been so busy and insanely tiring. Here's the next update though, I hope everyone is still reading! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 7**

Drifting somewhere in between. A dream? Shocked, cold, afraid. His heart beat against his ribs. He drew breath, choked on water, turned hurriedly to the side and spat it out. He coughed into the speechless night and opened his eyes wearily, not sure what to expect.

Pained blossomed in his head and he bit off a groan as it rippled up his throat. He looked around, his eyes unfocused and uncertain about what could've been hiding deep within the shadows. He knew what lurked in the night, but he _didn't_ know what he'd find lurking in _this_ night.

Confusion bombarded his weary mind. What had happened? Where was he? What time was it? Where was Sam…Sam! Where was Sam? He thought back to what he recalled. It was foggy and in bits and pieces so small that they could be passed through the eye of a needle. He drew in a shuddering breath and struggled to find motivation deep within to move.

Any minute now, he'd move. He just needed to find the will within his tired mind to do so. He timidly placed his hands on the ground for leverage and began to get up. His muscles went weak and he crashed back down in a painful heap. Faint tears of discomfort stung in his eyes, but he shrugged it off. He had to move. He had to find Sam; he wasn't going to be able to do that lying on the ground.

'_What happened?'_ Dean asked himself as he lay prone and panting on the cold Earth, working through the nausea that had flared in his stomach and the constant ache that nagged in his head.

'_Where…The Whooper!'_ Dean thought victoriously.

'_The bastard tried to drown me!'_ Dean mused angrily.

'_How'd I get out? Oh wait…'_ The memories flashed through his mind like a movie screen. He'd gotten out on his own. He remembered.

He'd hit his head. His vision had blacked out, but the cold water had shocked him back to consciousness where he had clawed his way out of the spring and onto the bank. The Whooper had been gone, but was it _really_ gone? He'd pulled himself out of the water and then…and then…nothing. The slate was blank and no matter how hard he struggled to grasp for the fabric of what had happened next, he couldn't.

'_Must've passed out.'_ He thought wryly.

A soft wind rippled through the air and pranced happily over his face. He drew a deep breath and slowly pushed himself up. The night lurched around him, but he worked through it and was soon standing on his own feet, even if he felt a bit shaky. The wind whistled distantly through the trees and Dean simply listened, unmoving, uncertain, he just listened.

Faint voices could be heard in the forest, familiar voices belonging to those that he knew. Amidst the wind, he could clearly identify Ron's voice, calling to him.

"Dean?" Ron yelled.

Dean's head throbbed painfully, but he pushed the feeling back and took a deep breath to respond.

"Dean?" The call came again.

"Over here." The eldest Winchester answered.

Footsteps rushed toward his voice, the wind not muffling the sound. Dean locked his eyes on the direction the running was coming from. Through the shadows and the dark, he saw Ron's tall, lanky figure hurrying to greet him.

"Dean! Are you alright?" Ron questioned.

"Yeah, I'm fine…I think." Dean muttered.

"You don't look _fine_ to me. I can see that even _with_ the lack of light. C'mon, Sam's worried about you."

"Sam? Is he okay?" Dean questioned timidly.

"He's fine, Dean, just worried, he's looking around Dead Boy's spring." Ron gently grabbed Dean's arm and led him down the path that twisted into the night-shrouded forest.

Dean surprised himself by staying upright without much difficulty as he was being pulled along through the dark. After what seemed like forever, he saw a shadowy figure moving slowly amongst the trees and he recognized the shadow as belonging to Sam when the silver light of night danced across the pale face.

"Dean!" Sam's words were full of relief and excitement, but also echoed of concern and confusion.

Sam pushed his way through the night and came to stand in front of Dean and Ron. The young man's face had shadows of concern dancing darkly around his eyes and mouth. Lines of worry were etched in his forehead, yet a soft smile rested quietly on his lips. No words were spoken, but the message clearly passed between the brothers when Dean nodded.

"Where's the Whooper?" Dean questioned cautiously. He trusted his little brother had done the deed and burned the bastard, but he wanted to be sure.

"Burned." Sam confirmed and Dean relaxed, but his relaxation caused him to sway back and into Ron, who caught him gently and kept him upright.

Sam's face clouded over again and dark toned eyes passed critically over the older brother as he impatiently righted himself and released Ron's hands from his shoulders.

"Dean, are…" Sam began, but Dean held up a hand.

"Don't say it, Sammy. I'm fine, just a little worn out. The Whooper showed me things that I never want to see again." Dean answered.

"What do you mean?"

"You know when it grabbed me and pulled me under?"

Sam nodded anxiously; he remembered it all to well.

"I think he pulled me in between worlds." Dean replied.

"Between worlds? You mean the dead and the living? Is that possible?" Sam asked.

"Apparently. Anyway, as I was saying, he pulled me between and showed me his death." Dean was whispering in Sam's ear so that Ron couldn't hear what was being exchanged.

"How'd you get out?"

"My charming, good looks?" Dean joked, breaking into a smile.

Sam landed a light punch on his brother's shoulder. "Yeah right. Don't be so full of yourself. Really, how'd you get out?" Sam asked, his voice was teasing and a smile had broken through his worried exterior.

"I don't know. "

"What do you remember?"

"Watching the men bury the cook. Then I knelt in front of the grave and a hand broke through."

"So, the grave is a rift between two worlds?"

"So it would seem, but I don't understand why nobody else has experienced the disruption."

"Maybe it's your extreme good looks?" Sam teased.

"Shut up." Dean said in mock hurt.

Sam shrugged. "It was a compliment."

Dean cast a long glance Sam's way and shook his head. "I don't know why nobody else experienced the rift that I did, but it exists. Well, it _did_ exist, until you set fire to it."

"Dean, you're bleeding." Ron said suddenly as moonlight crossed the back of the eldest Winchester's head.

Dean winced, he'd hoped that fact would go unnoticed, but he couldn't be that lucky.

"What? Let me see." Sam said and Ron pointed to the back of Dean's head. The youngest brother moved around behind to examine the injury.

"Why didn't you say something?" Sam questioned.

"It never came up."

"Sorry, but it looks bad." Ron insisted.

"I'm fine."

Sam began to run his hands over the wound to feel for abnormalities, but Dean batted is hands away impatiently.

"Sammy, I'm fine! I just want to get out of here and find a nice hotel with a nice bed somewhere where I can get a good night's sleep."

"Nice is hard to come by. We should get back to Tyler and Gray and get this cleaned up." Sam said simply.

Dean sighed, and rolled his eyes, but allowed Sam to take his arm and lead him through the path leading to the circle Dean had created as a safe haven. A haven that would no longer be needed as protection from the supernatural element that had once lurked in Whooper woods.

**A/N: Not done yet! Stay tuned and I'll try to get the next chapter up quicker!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I have more tricks! There are still some unresolved issues left to address. I know the last chapter lacked a lot of adventure, but I needed to tell the story of what had happened to ease any feelings of confusion. Hope this chapter will make up for it though! Enjoy!**

**A huge thanks to those who are still reading this, even though my update times are so whacked up which I apologize for. It looks like my "I'll try to get the next chapter up quicker" went flying out the window, but school takes over my life and I seem to lose any time in the day because it all goes by too fast to get anything done. Hopefully this chapter will be up to your expectations though! **

**Chapter 8**

Approaching the clearing, Dean saw the flames from the fire swaying easily under the soft breeze that whispered around them. Two figures sat near the glow, one without aid, and the other with it. From this distance, one couldn't be certain if Gray was awake or unconscious, but the answer would soon be revealed.

Dean's footfalls faltered and he stumbled slightly over an invisible raise in the ground. Strong hands from Sam and Ron on either of his sides kept him from pitching forward. He sighed helplessly and forced all of his strength to the surface so that he was semi-standing on his own, yet still depending on support. An impatient exhale from Sam made Dean smile a bit, knowing that his stubbornness was serving him well.

They drew closer to the fireside and Tyler's head turned to face them, blue eyes widened at the sight of Dean leaning on his younger brother. He moved to get up, but Dean shook his head in the negative.

"Don't bother. I'm okay." Dean's voice sounded tired, but still determined to not show weakness.

Tyler did nothing, but nod and he turned his attention back to Gray's still face. A face that Dean could now see reflected the state of unconsciousness. Eyes closed, face relaxed, breathing even, the steady rise and fall of his chest proving that the heart still beat behind his ribs, yet there was something different. It wasn't something that Dean could pin point exactly, but it _was_ different. Something about Gray didn't seem to be quite right. It could've been the fact that he was unconscious, but for some reason, Dean wasn't convinced.

As the trio continued to approach the two men on the ground, the fire's light embraced them warmly and sent eerie, orange patterns flitting faintly across their faces. A soft fog had started to drift in from off of the water and it now ghosted through the forest clearing and twirled gracefully around those who were present. With the fog came a wind that howled softly through the trees and caused the topmost branches to creak and groan under the new pressure.

"How is he?" Ron questioned, his voice filled with concern as he cast his eyes to his unconscious friend.

"I don't know. He doesn't seem to be any better, but he isn't any worse." Tyler answered.

Dean cautiously pushed himself away from his little brother and slowly lowered himself to sit next to Tyler, who watched with concerned eyes. Dean felt another presence hovering next to him and he turned to see Sam watching him through stony eyes that held nothing, but concern.

"Sammy, I'm fine." Dean replied, slightly impatiently. Sam didn't speak, he only watched until a snapping branch pulled his attention the other way.

The forest swayed darkly, waltzing in the night while the breeze played through the leaves to rustle them and pull the weaker ones from the branches. Get rid of the weak and only the strong survive. Dean's mind drifted, but did not lose focus.

"Right, the strong." Dean murmured quietly, not knowing where the words had come from.

"What?" Tyler's voice questioned him.

"Nothing."

Dean watched Sam walk slowly toward the trees, eyes searching the dark for any signs of threat. He made a move to get up and join the younger man, but the world tilted around him and a hand on his shoulder stopped him from rising any further. He turned to face the hand and saw Tyler's shadowy face in the firelight. From the ground came a pained moan and Dean turned his attention to the unconscious Gray, who's face twisted and contorted as though he were in pain, or terrified.

An uneasy feeling came to fall upon him and he turned his attention to Sam, who stood not four feet from the tree line. Dean wanted to get up and go to him, felt like he should, he felt intimidated, afraid for Sam and his throat knotted anxiously. The wind died and deep silence once again settled over them and felt like a weight pressing downward, driving the weak into the ground and leaving only the strong.

"Sammy." Dean replied, his voice caught in his throat, unable to escape his mouth in anything, but a silent whisper.

Then chaos came to fall. Dean watched in stunned silence as Sam fell to his knees, a pained grimace invading the young man's face. Dean bolted to his feet, despite the hand on his shoulder and stumbled to his little brother. The sounds of the world drowned out to a dull beat in his ears and he ran, falling to his knees next to his ailing brother. He placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and the sounds came rushing back at him. Sam whimpered as pain drove deep into his skull and Dean was powerless to make it go away.

Tyler's voice yelled to him in the background and Dean turned to face the man who was holding a convulsing Gray beneath a panicked grip. Ron's mouth worked, yet no sound escaped. The forest breathed in rapid succession; each breath escaped with a groan that shook the ground. The trees screamed under an unseen wind, yet the air was still. Sam called out and pitched forward, and stopped himself with his hands as he breathed through the pain that coursed through him.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, his voice felt shaky in his throat as he watched his brother suffer. Sam turned his head to Dean, face etched with pain, and tears glistened in his frightened eyes.

"What the hell?" Came a surprised and confused shout from Ron.

Then it came, loud and long and full of pain. A mourning cry electrified the air and Dean's skin rippled as the sound scattered through his nerves. Sam groaned and Dean felt helpless. Tyler yelled and Ron cursed. The wind began again and Dean passed hurried, wide eyes around Whooper woods as it moaned at him.

"Dean, he's still here." Sam forced through grinding teeth.

"I know that, Sammy." Dean stated seriously.

The moaning woods fell silent; the trees stopped creaking and Gray fell still under Tyler's hold. Sam continued to whimper, and Dean rested a steady hand on the man's shoulder. The youngest Winchester's face went blank, all signs of pain vanished and he stared, transfixed on the forest. Dean's face grew confused as he stared into the woods as well.

The trees still breathed. In and out, in and out, then nothing. A piercing scream blasted through the night, Sam went rigid and joined in the pained song. Dean grabbed onto his baby brother as he yelled and a thin line of blood began to trickle from the younger's nose.

Tyler called out in surprise as Gray once again began to seize under his hands. The scream continued and a dark shadow drifted from the forest. It passed dead, green eyes over Dean and Sam and then focused attention on the dancing flames and the three men around it. Sam went slack in Dean's grasp and his face fell deathly still. The blood trail stood out starkly against the pale skin. Dean felt for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he found one fluttering rapidly beneath his fingertips. He gently lowered his unconscious brother to the ground and got to his feet to pursue the Whooper.

The creature of the night turned on Dean and an invisible force tossed him back. A tree snapped under his weight and jabbed him hard in the back. He cried out as his body went temporarily numb from the shock. Pain fired to every nerve ending and his breath came in difficult gasps that rattled in his lungs with a constant, steady ache. Dots danced in front of his eyes, but he blinked them away and struggled to his feet when the feeling returned to his body.

The Whooper was still heading toward the fire, but Dean saw with some relief that all three men were safely inside the circle.

"Bastard! You're supposed to be gone." Dean mumbled to himself. Sam had burned the bones and that should've banished the spirit. Why hadn't it?

He stood on weak legs, pain danced up and down his back while a strong, steady throb beat annoyingly in his head. He drew in a deep, shaky breath to compose himself and watched to see what the Whooper's next move would be. The thing stopped and watched the protective circle through sick, green eyes. It ceased screaming and the forest shuddered into silence.

Dean watched the unmoving spirit, trying to determine what its next move would be, but no matter how hard he tried to decipher it, he couldn't. From nowhere, a strong gust of wind swept through the trees and tore at Dean's hair and clothes. The wind bypassed him and made its way toward the fire where it screamed wildly with the sound of the Whooper. The moon vanished behind dark clouds and the fire died under the gusting, plunging the forest into the deepest black. The Whooper screamed, and Dean heard anguished cries coming from the area that the fire had once been in. He stumbled his way through the dark until he passed through a patch of cold that froze his breath in his lungs. He gagged as he struggled to breathe and he felt a cold hand grab tightly onto his lower arm to hold him back.

He shook his arm wildly and tried to free himself, but he couldn't, he was held in place. Movement was not an option. He heard a colourful curse rip from Ron's throat and it echoed behind the Whooper's scream. A surprised shout came from the dark and Dean thought it belonged to Tyler. Soon to follow was a terrifying, haunting cry of a man in pain. It came from everywhere and reverberated in Dean's mind.

All at once the forest fell silent and the moonlight began to shine through the foggy clouds to bathe the clearing in an eerie light that bounced off of the water and crept slowly around the area until it was bathed in a pale green.

Green? The moon shouldn't be green. Dean's thoughts were confused as he cast eyes to the dead fire. His breath hitched when he saw that the circle was nowhere in sight. The Whooper was gone and only the green light remained, it danced sickly over the three men heaped by the burnt out coals. Dean cast an apprehensive glance back to where Sam still lay and made his way quickly to his friends.

He dropped next to Tyler and Gray and felt each neck for a pulse, both had pulses that fluttered beneath his touch and he felt a sensation of relief wash over him. Next his gaze wandered to where Ron lay, his face in shadows turned away from Dean's sights. He scrabbled over the ground to stop next to the other man and reached to the neck.

Tyler groaned and Dean turned to see him sitting up, and much to his surprise, Gray was sitting as well, blinking heavily through leaden eyes, a confused expression painted across his stony features.

"Gray?" Tyler asked timidly.

"What happened?" The man in question answered.

"Don't quite know, you've been out of it for a while. Ron flagged down an ambulance for you. It should be here in a little while." Tyler spoke.

"I don't need no damn ambulance. I'm fine."

"Like hell you are. Look, it's too late anyway, it's already on its way."

Gray's eyes switched to Dean, who was crouching not two feet from Ron. The eldest Winchester locked hazel eyes onto Gray's stern face.

"Look out!" Gray yelled suddenly, pointing behind Dean.

The brother made to turn, but didn't get far before a tight grip encircled the back of his neck and began to choke off his air. He lost balance, and fell back into the waiting arms of a maliciously smiling Ron.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Here's another update. I believe that one or two more chapters should finish this story and hopefully I'll be able to get them up fairly quickly. I have a fairly easygoing weekend; you might be able to look for an update later today or tomorrow. Although this chapter isn't one of my favorites, hopefully it'll live up to the expectations of those reading. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 9**

Sam was pulled awake by Gray's warning yell and he forced his eyes to open, pushing back the pain that drummed solidly in his skull. He knew what was happening, he'd seen it in passing flashes before his eyes while Dean was kneeling next to him. The Whooper had never been destroyed, he had seen the bones burn, but none of it had been real. It had all been a colourful ruse to make him see things that weren't there. The grave had never collapsed; the Whooper just made it look like it had. The spirit had taken Dean into limbo and made it _appear_ as though the dirt fell in to reveal the hidden bones that were still there.

How could he have been so unobservant? That wasn't like him, but he had been in a desperate state of worry for his older brother. He saw the bones and he tossed the match, wanting to believe that he was banishing the spirit, but he hadn't double-checked. Now the Whooper was back and it was very possibly his fault.

He stumbled to his feet and cast his eyes to the fireside where he saw Dean's eyes widen as he'd fallen back into Ron's arms. Sam's breath caught in his throat. He watched Ron's eyes glitter a sharp green before they clouded over and returned back to normal.

He'd seen this too. He knew that the Whooper would take over Ron, and he knew why. He also knew why Gray had woken up. Once Dean was out of the way, everything would fall into place, unless someone else got in the way.

Sam saw Ron reach to his belt for his knife, a malicious smile plastered on his face. Tyler saw what was about to happen and made a move. He grabbed for the blade, but Ron thrust it past his hand and deep into his stomach. A choked, pained, cry escaped the man's lips as he fell in a heap, clutching the open wound in his stomach.

He turned the blade on Dean.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Gray shouted.

Ron spoke, his voice was snarling and distorted. "This isn't play. This is revenge."

Gray looked confused. The blade inched closer to Dean's vulnerable neck.

"Hey!" Sam yelled, his voice echoing across the ground to greet the possessed man.

Ron looked up, his eyes glittered nastily and he shoved Dean aside. The oldest brother rolled to a stop next to Tyler and cast a wide-eyed hazel glance on Sam. Lines of worry creased his forehead.

"What're you doing Sammy?" Dean yelled.

"See to Tyler, Dean." Sam said, his voice was even. He began to walk quickly toward Ron and Gray, knowing what was going to happen, and not wanting it to take place.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, starting to rise. Ron turned to Dean and stared him down, raising the blade to plunge into him. Dean jumped out of the way as the knife ripped a cut in his shoulder. He grimaced, but nothing more.

Sam picked up his pace in hopes of saving his older brother from death. He halted between Gray and Ron, who turned and gave Sam a malicious glare through once again glittering eyes.

"Move aside." Ron's voice snarled. He cast those eyes beyond Sam to lock with Gray's.

"I can't, I'd be sentencing an innocent man to die." Sam replied.

"What?" Gray asked in question, but his voice was too hushed for anyone except himself to hear.

"Innocent? That man killed me." Ron said, his voice had taken on a tight edge.

"No he didn't. Although he may look like the man who murdered you, he isn't." Sam replied, trying to talk sense into the angry spirit that had his mind set on avenging his own death.

Sam saw Dean help Tyler struggle to his feet behind Ron and walk toward the river's edge. His eyes then flicked back to the green eyes of the Whooper.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Gray asked Ron.

Green eyes switched from Sam's face to Gray's.

"You know what I'm talking about. Don't tell me you've forgotten."

"Forgotten what?"

"Killing me."

"If I had killed you, don't you think I'd remember? People don't go around murdering folks and then forgetting. I didn't kill you or _anyone_ else."

"Liar!" Ron shouted.

Sam didn't wait any longer. He leapt forward and shoved Ron to the ground. The knife skidded away and vanished into the shadows. He turned his head to Gray.

"Run toward Whooper's spring." Sam's voice wasn't requesting, it was ordering.

"There's no way in hell I'm going there." Gray objected.

"Do you want to live?" Came Dean's voice from not far off. Sam didn't turn his attention to focus anywhere but on the man beneath him.

Gray didn't answer.

"If you want to live, you'll run to Whooper's spring." Dean yelled.

Gray seemed willing to object, but didn't and instead began to run down the trail that would lead to Whooper's spring.

Ron bucked beneath Sam's firm hold and managed to toss the youngest man aside in a heap before bolting to his feet and taking off after Gray. Sam didn't hesitate. He followed.

Dean watched his little brother go and turned back to Tyler who still clutched a blood patch on his stomach. The man's eyes brimmed over with pain, and lines of pain were etched into the skin around his eyes and mouth as he gritted his teeth against the searing ache in his abdomen.

"Tyler, I have to go and help Sam. Can you make it?" Dean asked, not wanting to leave the man alone.

Tyler shook his head blindly. "Not to Whooper's spring, no, but go. I'll be fine here. I'll just wait for the medics, they should be coming soon enough."

Dean hesitated. Tyler smiled weakly.

"Go on. Sam needs your help."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive." Tyler finalized and that was all Dean needed to hear. He broke into a run and followed his little brother.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Here's the last chapter, it's a bit longer than the others are, but I hope you all enjoy it just the same!**

**Chapter 10**

The area next to Whooper's spring was dark, yet the first light of morning was beginning to paint faint glimmers over the shadowy trees and the dark reflective water. In the centre of the clearing, Gray and Ron stood face to face. Ron had a hand holding tightly to the front of Gray's vest, while the other held a knife to his throat. Sam stood not two feet away, ready to jump in, because he knew that it would be needed if the Whooper had his way.

Sam cast his eyes over the ground and saw that the Whooper's gravesite indeed looked undisturbed, just as he knew that it was. The wooden marker pierced the early morning air and didn't even look charred. It was odd since he _knew_ that he had tossed a match, the wood should've caught the flame. Wait, no it wouldn't. The burning was something the Whooper had placed in the mind. He knew that the spirit had extinguished the tiny fire before it even hit the ground.

Ron drew invisible patterns across Gray's neck with the glittering blade, and his face was a smiling mask of malice.

"Don't do this." Gray pleaded.

"I have to."

"No, you don't." Sam replied. Ron turned a stony face toward the young man.

Ron's eyes seemed to soften and Sam could see an internal struggle going on behind them. Ron was trying to fight back, but it didn't look as though he were succeeding. The knife wavered a bit and scratched the surface of Gray's skin, leaving a thin trail of blood behind. Gray winced, but locked eyes with Ron.

Ron's face quivered and for a split second the owner of the body gained control once again. His eyes widened as shock and he began to yank the knife back, but the Whooper regained control, hardened the face and replaced the blade to Gray's throat.

Footsteps pounded near and the three men in the clearing tossed their attention toward the newcomer. Dean skidded to a stop next to Sam, and in the faint light, a thin sheen of perspiration glistered on his brow. He held a hand firmly to his shoulder and his face wavered between pain and determination.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked urgently.

"We fight together, Sammy. I'm not about to let you get destroyed by forces beyond us." Dean's voice was strong and heavy with care for his younger brother.

"I can handle myself, Dean." Sam whispered, but he said nothing more. To be truthful, he was glad to have Dean beside him in the fight, no matter the outcome.

The blade was pressed further to Gray's neck and drew a bit more blood. Gray winced. Ron smiled.

"I want you to suffer a nice, slow death. A lot like mine." Ron's voice spoke.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Gray replied.

"Then let me remind you." Ron replied and Gray's face blanked, only to lose all colour.

"Holy shit." Gray whispered when his face returned to normal, yet his skin was still pale, and his eyes were wide and confused.

Sam knew what had happened. The Whooper had taken Gray into his mind and shown him the past, much like he had done with Dean, only Dean had been physically transported. Gray hadn't.

Through a psychic impression, the Whooper had shown Gray exactly what Sam had seen in his vision:

_An old logging cabin far back in the forest, rickety and falling down, yet homey and intimate just the same. It had served as a home away from home for the loggers. The young cook, with bright green eyes and dark, curled hair stood next to the window looking out into the late afternoon sun. His arms were crossed protectively over his chest and a slight smile rested on his lips. He loved his job; he loved the friendships that came from his career He'd always loved the outside world, so in a sense, this was perfect. Sure, he was often trapped inside slaving over a hot stove, but that made no difference._

_He was away from civilization, away from the worries of the world and he was in his own personal paradise. He made good pay and he felt at home. He had most of the day to himself, while the loggers were out doing their work, he only saw the boss occasionally, the man usually kept to himself, but he was pleasant enough all the same. He'd spoken to him on a few occasions, shared a few good jokes, and stayed up well into the night over a cup of tea. The boss was a man that he considered as a friend._

_The door to the cabin banged open, rattling the windows and jostling the young cook out of his thoughts. He cast vibrant eyes on the newcomer and smiled a greeting._

"_Good afternoon." The cook spoke._

_The boss mumbled an inaudible reply and darted anxious eyes over the cabin to rest on the cook next to the window._

"_Is there something wrong, sir?" The cook questioned, he'd never seen the older man so distraught before. He was used to seeing the man as easy going and laid back, with a stern face, but a friendly interior._

"_No, nothing." The reply was short, gruff and clipped._

_The cook shifted uncomfortably, the boss's eyes hadn't left him. They stared him down and pierced into his soul. His hand twitched at his side, reaching for something that couldn't be seen. The cook shifted uncomfortably in his spot._

_The boss's eyes shadowed. His face turned stony and depicted nothing, but malice and hate. The boss drew a blade and lunged at the cook, who released a startled yell upon seeing the blade coming at him._

"_What're you doing?" The cook shouted in fear._

"_Where's your money?" _

"_My room! Why do you want to know?"_

_The boss shoved the blade into the cook's arm. The young man screamed a terrible, pained yell. _

"_Where in your room?"_

"_The drawer next to my bed." The cook replied through pain gritted teeth._

_The blade was brought down again; the cook screamed the Whooper's song. The boss continued his bloody job and the young man continued to scream into the fading daylight. When the deed was done, the boss made his way quickly into the cook's room and returned with the man's entire savings. He ran outside and stopped to look back, his face depicted horror over what he had just done. The last light of day caught his form and he looked exactly like Gray._

_Seconds later, the loggers came running, the boss had vanished. They burst into the door and cast shocked eyes to the young man lying on the wooden floor, surrounded by dark blood that seeped from open wounds. One of the men dropped next to the man and felt for a pulse, only to come away without one._

"_He's dead."_

"_Murdered, it looks like." Replied another man._

_There were nods of agreement._

Sam pulled himself from the reflection back on the vision and saw Dean struggling to pull Ron off of a fallen Gray.

"We were _friends_!" Ron was shouting.

"It wasn't me! It might look like it, but I swear to you that it wasn't!" Gray pleaded.

"He's right. What happened is in the past. Not now." Sam replied.

"You saw it! He killed me! He _killed_ me!" Ron was shouting, his voice was desperate.

"Yes, I saw it, but it wasn't Gray. It was someone else."

Dean continued to struggle and eventually pulled Ron from Gray and shoved him roughly to the ground. The fallen man twisted his mouth into an icy glare.

"Let me do this. He deserves it." Ron spoke calmly and evenly.

"He's innocent!" Dean yelled.

Sam's eyes darted to the untouched grave and he ran over to it and began to pull the dirt away with his bare hands. Rocks sliced through his skin, but he ignored them. This had to be done.

Ron screamed in the Whooper's wail and he struggled to reach Sam, Dean snatched the knife away and turned it on Ron, but did not thrust the blade into the man's skin. Ron was still in there and he was trying to fight the spirit off.

"Hurry it up, Sammy!" Dean yelled after five minutes of struggling to hold Ron back.

Clearly the Whooper couldn't leave Ron's body, or he would have done so, but Dean knew that the Whooper needed a physical body to commit murder, unlike many other spirits. The Whooper was different. He wasn't a true spirit, but more or less a presence left by the past, he couldn't kill in his original form, he could only cause pain, which he had done.

Finally Sam's bloodied and cut up hands scratched an old skull under the dirt of the shallow grave. He drew out the salt and sprinkled it over the visible bones. Ron was still screaming. Sam struck a match and tossed it onto the bones, which crackled and blackened in the flames.

Ron burst through Dean's grip by digging long fingers into the open wound on the eldest brother's shoulder. Dean immediately let go and his face contorted into a look of pain. Ron ran toward Sam, but stopped shy of reaching him.

In the morning light, Ron's eyes blazed green before dying away into their normal colour. The man went rigid and fell to the ground. His body began to convulse and his face was distorted with pain. Sam scrambled over to him and gently raised his head while the convulsions died away, leaving Ron pale and still. Sam's fingers searched the neck for a pulse that he found beating steadily under his touch.

Dean and Gray made their way to where Sam sat with Ron and dropped to their knees, all signs of pain and discomfort gone, but not forgotten. Dean's arm was streaked with blood that still flowed steadily from the cut, and Gray's neck was ringed with red stains.

"_Now_ is it over?" Gray asked, his voice breathless and confused.

"I think so." Dean answered.

Ron's eyelids fluttered and opened slowly. The man drew in a sharp gasp as fiery pain lanced through his body and blossomed in his skull. His eyes were panicked and frightened, and his mouth moved without sound. Gray placed a finger to his lips.

"It's okay, it's over." Gray spoke softly, not like his usual gruff voice. His eyes glistened with concern and his face showed nothing, but worry.

Dean got to his feet, helping Ron along the way.

"We have to get back to Tyler." He said urgently, recalling the young man back at the river.

"I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to." Ron said, his words were whispered and his face was haunted.

"We know, and I'm sure he'll understand. Let's go." Gray replied.

The trek back to Tyler was slow and agonizing and was spent mainly in silence. Everyone was afraid to speak. Either that or they didn't know _what_ to speak of.

Morning had nearly fallen by the time they reached the shore. All eyes drifted to the still form of Tyler, lying on the riverbank. The men ran to their friend's side and dropped around him. With a shaking hand, Ron reached out for a pulse. His face was anxious as he desperately searched the neck for a beat.

The sound of sirens blared into the moist, morning air, followed by the drone of an engine in the forest.

Ron was still searching for a pulse, and finally found one. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief and collapsed to sit next to the silent Tyler. The young man coughed and blue eyes slid opened slowly to gaze across the expressions of those gathered around.

"Is…" Tyler's words were cut off by a shaky breath, and the sight of Dean shaking his head.

"It's over, don't worry. How are you holding up?" Sam asked.

"Been better." Tyler replied. His eyes slid shut and he struggled to open them again.

"Hello?" Came a strong male voice from the opposite side of the river.

Dean looked up to see the man dressed in a paramedic uniform while fog drifted slowly over his feet.

"Yeah! We have a knife wound over here!" Dean called. The man called to his co-workers who brought a stretcher and splashed through the mirror-like river.

The paramedics dropped next to Tyler and immediately checked the injury.

Dean smiled tightly, and Tyler returned it with a slow blink of his eyes and a wavering smile that was trying to hide the pain. He was gently placed on the stretcher and taken across the river.

"He should be fine. Now, let me take a look at those." Came a man's voice from next to Dean.

Dean turned to face the voice and his breath caught in his throat. The young man casting a critical glance over Dean's shoulder and head injury had vivid green eyes and dark, curly hair, with a soft expression on his gently angled face. This man was nearly identical in appearance to the young cook who was murdered, and he looked about the same age.

"Are you okay?" The paramedic questioned, watching Dean through those sharp eyes that held a world of caring in their depths.

Dean nodded, but didn't speak and allowed the young man to check him over before bandaging up the injured arm and tending to the cut on the back of the eldest brother's head. He then nodded and crossed the river to vanish into the woods after the stretcher and the other two paramedics.

"That murderer looked a lot like my great grandfather." Gray replied and he fingered the white bandages on his neck. He got nothing, but silence and he cast a glance around at all those present. His gaze rested on Dean, who was staring transfixed at the spot where the stretcher had just vanished from; the younger man's face was pale and confused.

"Dean?" Gray asked.

The man in question turned his eyes to greet Gray's.

"Are you alright?" Gray questioned.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Dean stated, his eyes still lingering on the spot where the man had entered the tree line.

"Let's get back on the road." Dean replied, locking eyes with Sam.

"Right. Here's my cell number, give me a call when you hear about how Tyler's holding out, okay?" Sam asked, fishing in his pockets for a piece of paper. He pulled out an old receipt and a pen and wrote the number to hand over to Gray.

"I will. Thanks a lot. I guess we owe you one." Gray replied.

"Nah, we're even." Dean smiled and made his way back to where the Impala was parked, Sam following close behind.

Once in the woods Dean turned to Sam.

"Did that paramedic look familiar?" The eldest questioned.

"Yeah, he did." Was Sam's only answer.

The End!

**A/N: Well that's it for this story. I hope you all enjoyed reading; I sure enjoyed writing it! Let me know your thoughts and thanks again!**


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